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Chapter Five: Considering the Sparrows
The Sparrows were too pretty by half.
Caroline was sitting on the edge of a gilt chair in George Swann’s drawing room, watching them as they presented their family with gifts from afar. For Will Turner and his son there were swords, long, slightly curved, and strangely ornamented, that were said to be of Japanese make, and Elizabeth received a lacquerware box filled to the brim with perfectly matched pearls. For Weatherby there was a case containing two wonderfully ornate pistols, which caused some hilarity among the family when both Weatherby and Sparrow threatened Harry with dire vengeance if she so much as touched them. Harry protested that they were most unkind, and hadn’t she inflicted only that one minor wound upon her husband, and hadn’t Jack subsequently taught her everything there was to know about firearms so that even he had to admit that she was now a fine shot? – to which Weatherby retorted with a Look and a single word, “Nevertheless! ”
The wooden crate in the middle of the room was for George Swann, and it was carefully opened to reveal a truly magnificent chest, again of Japanese make, inlaid with elaborate scenes and lacquered in the “sprinkled gold” style.
George was ecstatic, for he was a connoisseur of fine furnishings, but Weatherby said, “From Japan again. How on earth did you acquire such things? Their ports have been closed to us forever!”
“Oh, the VOC was happy to oblige,” Jack Sparrow said, with a wink at his son, who grinned.
Weatherby demanded, “You did not endanger your family by engaging in piracy on that voyage?”
Sparrow said, “Not on purpose! Could I help it if those bl— er… if the Dutch occasionally took exception to our presence in the East Indies? And the ladies were safe as houses, give you my word, I always sent them below at the first sign of any trouble.”
“Not that they always stayed below,” Tom Sparrow said in a humorous aide, though his amusement was quickly stifled at a glare from his father.
Before Weatherby could remonstrate further, Jack changed the subject by telling James, “We’ve gifts for you Norringtons, too, but they’re still back on the Pearl. Didn’t learn you were already in London until we arrived.”
“Just seeing you all is gift enough,” James said.
Caroline said nothing, but continued to sip her tea and nibble on the truly superlative cakes that were attributed to the hand of one of the Sparrows’ two French cooks. Too pretentious.
And too pretty.
She herself was quite aware of the magnetic attraction of the Sparrow patriarch. He might be a scoundrel, but Jack Sparrow had more charm in his little finger than Caroline’s departed husband had ever thought or hoped to possess. And Sparrow was certainly a fit mate for his wife, of whom Caroline had heard little good when the chit was a girl. No chit, now, of course – she was nearing fifty, though one wouldn’t think it to look at her, and her husband was some six years older, or so James had said. In an earlier age the pair might have been burned for witches. It wasn’t natural to retain such a youthful appearance past thirty.
Years ago, Caroline had been profoundly thankful when she’d heard that Harry Swann had been removed from James’s orbit, having accepted an offer from the Duke of Wyndham, her senior by some forty years. Caroline, aware that the Swanns’ financial straits precluded a refusal, even by so heedless a girl, felt it was justice. Harry had been leading her brother Weatherby a rare dance ever since she’d come up to town, and George, ever the profligate, had positively encouraged her hoydenish behavior. Marriage to his grace should certainly have quashed that rebellious spirit but, in the event, Harry had not suffered long. Fanshawe had cocked up his heels after only a few years, and there had been no issue. The girl was left with a widow’s freedom and the wealth to indulge it. But by then, James had been safely out of the way, a rising lieutenant in the Royal Navy, with neither the rank nor the proximity to tempt such a creature.
It had seemed, however, that Harry hadn’t been tempted to remarry at all, until her adventure with the pirate Jack Sparrow, years later. Of course the two were drawn to one another –it was only a wonder that Weatherby was shocked. A scandalous affaire, and their son born not five months after the hastily arranged wedding. Sparrow had, of course, distinguished himself somewhat over the years, sailing as a privateer for England and working with James and the Royal Navy, but what difference did a piece of paper make? Rogues, the pair of them, as anyone could see at a glance, God help them both.
Their daughter seemed a sweet child in spite of beauty that assured she’d been petted and spoiled since birth. She’d no doubt go on to break many hearts in a few years time – starting perhaps with William Weatherby Turner’s. He appeared to be besotted already, for the wonderful new sword (shorter than his father’s, but just as finely made) had been set aside and he was now sitting in a corner with his cousin, enthralled as she quietly but enthusiastically regaled him with some outlandish tale.
But it was Tom Sparrow that worried Caroline. He was somewhat taller than his father, but was otherwise very like to what one imagined the pirate had been in his youth. He moved with confidence and an unconscious grace, his body spare and well-knit, and of pleasing proportions. His dark, silky hair was uncurled and unpowdered, simply tied at his nape, and his eyes were just as dark, and full of warmth and wit: any lady would kill for such eyes. In truth, she’d rarely seen a handsomer boy, and he had a great deal of his father’s preternatural charm as well, though with a more wholesome air, perhaps because of his youth. Nineteen. Two years older than Anne. But Tom Sparrow was not for her niece, not if Caroline Hayes had anything to say about it.
She could see why Anne had been smitten, particularly as they’d been playmates as children. But handsome and personable as he was, the boy could not vie with Cecil Price, Earl of Hartfield, as a potential mate, either in birth or in wealth. Tom’s father was a bastard, a by-blow of Wainfleet’s – Caroline put no faith in this tale of James’s that Sparrow’s claim to the barony might prove to be legitimate – and Tom’s mother’s wealth was tied up, eventually to be passed on to her daughter. The Sparrows were rumored to have acquired a considerable fortune through their recent travels, but that could hardly compare with Hartfield’s, built up over generations. No, James and Margaret would surely have the sense to discourage any connection between Anne and young Tom, and Anne herself must be made to see reason, for there was no doubt that the boy was quite capable of inspiring a reanimation of her childish affection. Caroline positively dreaded the next few days, when they should be thrown together through their parents’ activities.
Tom was brooding a little just now, for when he first greeted James and Caroline and asked after Margaret and Anne, he’d been told of the ladies’ prior engagement: a house party at the Hartfields’ estate, a few miles outside of London, from which they would not return until the next morning.
“Hartfield’s mother particularly wished to meet them,” Caroline had told Tom and his parents. “She is an old friend of mine, but is something of an invalid and cannot attend the London parties where her son and Anne so often meet.”
James had spoiled things somewhat at this point by saying, “But listen: we are all to go to Vauxhall tomorrow evening, we’ve reserved a box. Will you all come with us? We’ll take boats across to the water entrance, and there’ll be dinner and music, dancing, and a thousand Chinese lanterns lighting the walks. I believe even Daisy and William Weatherby are old enough to attend.”
Daisy had clapped her hands with delight. “Oh, yes! Can we please go, Mother?”
Caroline had said smoothly, “Indeed, you all must come! Hartfield and his sister have already consented to join us, and you will no doubt like to meet them. I hesitate to say too much, but to tell you the truth we have great hopes that something may come of the connection. He dotes upon Anne.”
And James redeemed himself, then, by chuckling, “He’s been sending flowers every other day – our drawing room smells like a florist’s shop.”
“How lovely, though!” Harry had said, with a smile that had faded at her son’s ill-hidden dismay.
Tom said now to James, “It’s a gift seeing you again, too, sir. Will you please give Anne my warmest greetings when she comes home tomorrow? And her mother, too, of course.”
“Of course.” James suppressed a smile.
“Speaking of tomorrow,” Jack Sparrow said, “I’m to go to Wainfleet’s solicitors in the morning. Weatherby and Tom will come along, too, though Will is engaged elsewhere, and George has declined—“
“Land sharks, the lot of ‘em,” George Swann asserted, and certainly he would know, his legal entanglements had been epic, and he’d always been on the edge of disaster until he’d finally won a fortune in a single night at his club and subsequently swore off high play. “I shall escort the ladies and the children to the park.”
“—but I was wondering if you’d care to lend your support as well.”
James looked extremely pleased. “I’d consider it an honor, Jack.”
“Good,” Sparrow said, sounding relieved. Harry, sitting next to him, touched his hand, and he picked up hers and kissed her fingers, with such a look in his eyes…
Caroline removed her fan from her reticule and opened it. “How warm it is today,” she murmured, cooling her cheeks.
Continued in Chapter Six: The Truth of the Matter
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 03:29 pm (UTC)Caroline's an old bat and I'm worried the whole thing is a trick somehow.
So grand to have a posting from you every day with this tale;
you must have been working for months.
*smooches you, and bebe*
Felaine
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Date: 2011-01-06 02:07 pm (UTC)I have to say, I did have fun writing Carolyn. She is one of those people who is certain they know best and that others are in need of her expert guidance.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad you're enjoying this.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 04:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 02:09 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for commenting, here and at FF.net. So kind of you!
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Date: 2011-01-05 05:31 pm (UTC)Still loving this. :)
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Date: 2011-01-06 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 02:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-05 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 02:17 pm (UTC)Yes, complications. I must say, Aunt Caroline is a fun character to write. *g*
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Date: 2011-01-06 01:42 am (UTC)"Anne herself must be made to see reason, for there was no doubt that the boy was quite capable of inspiring a reanimation of her childish affection." Ha! childish affection, Adam's dadblame off ox! Anne "made to see reason" that grumpy old witch doesn't have the least bit of clue about the exceptional depth her niece is capable of! I love Anne, can just feel her gentle grace, banking her passionate firey nature. And miz geekmama! You are just wicked...Cecil, Cecil, lord love a duck--I can only see that sea dragon, the goofy cartoon one..
By the by, if you've just a smidgen of wickedness, a drollop, a taste...left on the edge of table somewhere...an slightly (oh phooey...a full on hot up)interlude wouldn't be remiss...Valentine's...coming up and you are so capable when bringing them together...like droplets of water they are, finally leaping to the other when they get to that certain critical point...~~Big old sigh of unrequieted tension?~~oh, little sigh of delight in having this treat!
no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-01-06 02:18 am (UTC)And yet there is no greater response to said shortcomings than a grand "Frankly my dear...." at which I would think the Sparrows would be quite adept.
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Date: 2011-01-06 02:23 pm (UTC)Very true, and I think that's a big part of the problem with her, not only where Anne is concerned, but James, too. I have to say, she's a lot of fun to write. *g*
Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
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Date: 2011-01-06 07:24 pm (UTC)That could also be why POTC is so fascinating to explore: the writers provided each character with their own set of pluses, but also a quantity of flaws (well, very well, some more so than others ) So much to do, so little time!!!
BTW: Perhaps Caroline should look into this tendency to live vicariously through the looks exchanged between a man and a woman.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-07 05:02 am (UTC)Very true, though that's true of any good character. They would not seem human, otherwise.
Caroline has been a widow for too long. Perhaps a story in which the Sparrows set her up with a nice piratey colleague? *g*
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Date: 2011-01-06 08:00 am (UTC)I am printing out for evening reading and will comment toward the end but for now, very happy mouse!
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Date: 2011-01-06 02:24 pm (UTC)